


The Road to Hell is Paved With Good Intentions

by CaedmonOfTheHighland



Series: Caedmon's 3am Short Fics [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 19th Century, Don't give me your slash warning bullshit because you've been warned, Gen, Hogwarts, M/M, Post-War, Time Travel, Weird Plot Shit, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaedmonOfTheHighland/pseuds/CaedmonOfTheHighland
Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts is finally over, Harry Potter having prevailed over the Dark Lord. To get away from the sorrow and mourning, the boy hero makes a trip down to the destroyed village of Hogsmeade to thank Aberforth and Ariana for their assistance.He never imagined that this would be the beginning of his newest adventure. Harry wishes to change things for the better but even the smallest actions can change things irrevocably.
Relationships: Aberforth Dumbledore & Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Ariana Dumbledore & Harry Potter
Series: Caedmon's 3am Short Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828057
Kudos: 17





	The Road to Hell is Paved With Good Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who just started two other writing projects before finishing their first one. Yep, it's me.
> 
> *Laughs nervously*
> 
> Please don't hurt me

The streets of Hogsmeade were barren. This was wholly unsurprising for Harry. In fact, it was actually one of the reasons he had ventured down to the village in the first place.

There was no railing, no screaming, no weeping. Bodies did not litter the ground as they did back at Hogwarts.

Harry tipped his head back as he kicked aside the shattered remains of a water glass with his boot.

Blessed silence.

He shuffled further down the street, regarding shattered windows and ash smudged walls impassively.

Obviously, when the death eaters had passed through the small wizarding village, they had taken great joy in destroying it.

He stopped in front of one of the few untouched buildings, pushing open the door and stepping in without hesitation.

Much like the streets outside, The Hog's Head was devoid of people. A small lamp flickered frantically in the corner, unable to sustain its light for more than a fraction of a second.

"Lumos," He whispered, holding his wand out in front of him.

Unused to his newly acquired wand, Harry's spell created a blinding ball of light instead of the small, dim light he had wanted.

Reducing the intensity of his light, Harry strolled through the pub with purpose and soon arrived face to face with Aberforth Dumbledore's office door. It swung open at his touch and he marched on.

Ariana Dumbledore was sitting in her frame when he stepped into the room. If Harry had been curious as to why, even for a second, the stench of decay that filled the room told him all he needed to know.

Aberforth sat slumped at his desk. A pool of blood clearly spilt from the gash across, pooling around his face, seeping into the papers littered across the desk, and dripping onto the floor. 

With a morbidly practised ease, Harry conjured a white sheet and draped it over the man before turning towards the portrait of his sister. He would mourn the man later, away from the prying eyes of the public. Not that there was anyone alive in the village but he had learned from his experience with Rita Skeeter the beetle animagus. 

'Breaking news: Harry Potter cries over the death of most of his family and friends after a brutal massacre with few survivors and even fewer surviving without being permanently disfigured,' He thought bitterly 'Because Merlin forbid tI feel any kind of emotion other than righteous anger against the murderer of my parents and would-be conqueror of wizardkind'

Pushing away his thoughts, he addressed the portrait, doing the very thing he had come here to do. 

"Thank you, Ariana," He told the blank-faced girl softly.

She looked up at him, her acrylic face still schooled in a carefully indifferent mask. Her blue eyes snapped from sorrowful to hopeful in the blink of an eye.

She whispered something unintelligible to him before he could continue with his thanks, the first sound he'd ever heard her make. He moved closer, trying to understand her words.

His ear was nearly pressed to the canvas when he finally heard what she was saying. 

"Help," 

The single whispered word confused the boy-hero. How did one help a portrait? 

"Help," She repeated, holding out her hand. 

Stifling his sigh, Harry offered her his hand, reaching out towards the painting. Instead of hitting the solid canvas as he expected, the painting rippled and his hand passed straight through it. 

Before he had time to react, Ariana gripped his hand tightly and pulled with an impossible strength for a young girl.

He tumbled into the painting, landing on his face. Pushing his body up, Harry glared at Ariana's now smiling face.

He picked himself up completely and brushed himself off, staring at the strange and unique view of the office.

After a few moments, Ariana appeared behind him, gripping his elbow with the same unnatural strength she had exhibited earlier and steered him towards a far corner of the painting, covered by the frame.

The corner was very crowded. It housed a bed and several dressers that looked out of place in the grassy background of the portrait. 

He was sat on the small bed and immediately, his young host's hands fell to the hem of his dirt-smudged muggle t-shirt. Harry's eyes bulged and he smacked Ariana's hands away.

"Erm... Ariana..." 

His protest died on his tongue when he looked up and saw her eyes glowing with magic. Their usual Dumbledore blue had been replaced with a dangerous and unnatural electric blue.

In a bright flash, his clothes were quite literally burnt off his skin. Not even his underclothes were spared to preserve his modesty.

Ariana turned away from him and started rummaging through the closest dresser drawer.

Wary of saying anything, Harry studied the youngest Dumbledore while he rubbed his left leg, soothing the slightly singed skin. Something had clearly changed since the last time he was there but the change was not in any way physical. 

In appearance, the girl had not changed a bit. Her strawberry blonde hair still cascaded neatly down her shoulders, her lips were still pale and thin, curled into a permanent tentative smile, she even wore the same dress. 

But the energy around her was different. It swirled around her, dispersing itself into the objects around her before reforming and hovering back around her, not malevolent but certainly not calm. It was wild, it was dangerous and it was beautiful.

Harry lurched violently from his thoughts when a pile of clothes landed on his lap. The clothes were probably in style back in the 19th century, judging from the frock coat that lay at the top of the pile. Sorting through the rest of the items, Harry was quite disappointed to find out that he was right. 

He eyed the shirt distrustful, already feeling the itch that its stiff collar was going to give him before even putting it on. He slowly dressed, occasionally requiring Ariana's help to figure out how exactly a piece of clothing fit onto his body (It was really quite embarrassing how much trouble he'd had with the waistcoat which was a very simple article of clothing).

Once Harry had been entirely reclothed, Ariana offered him a hat and a trunk with a small smirk on her face. Harry took them, intending on studying the painting clothes and accessories once they finished cleaning up Hogwarts. 

Silently, the unusual pair walked towards the very back of Ariana's portrait where a door was hidden behind a clump of bushes.

Ariana pecked him once on each cheek but her mouth lingered near his ear.

"Save them," She begged, "Save me. Save us all." he looked at her strangely and she smiled back at him, a hint of sadness pulling at her features.

She leaned forward and pecked his lips. "Good Luck Harry Arian," 

Strong hands pushed him through the now open door and Harry tumbled through the air, clutching to his trunk for dear life.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually an idea that's been floating around my mind for a while so I figured I would write a Prologue and see how it goes.
> 
> I'll be updating this one much less often than ADMT so I'm sorry to say that those waiting for updates will be in for a long wait.


End file.
